


i'll make it worth your while, just let me taste the sky (you pressed your mouth on mine and fed me a star)

by excelestial, knighthoodie (excelestial)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 04:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19456507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelestial/pseuds/excelestial, https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelestial/pseuds/knighthoodie
Summary: how fraudulent a beast is when made to bear it's intentionsor, alternatively, professional demon Shane and his newly made apprentice Ryan go out and engage with some souls who may or may not be in for more than they bargained for





	i'll make it worth your while, just let me taste the sky (you pressed your mouth on mine and fed me a star)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the violent howl of a boy seeking comfort; how grotesque and horrific is the death of innocence

"He's a little young, don't you think?" Ryan's voice cracks, not sharp like a whip but instead like marble under the weight of something far larger than he. The nubs on his head, horns crowning from his skull, itch in a distinct discomfort at the boy before him.

Shane would agree- he couldn't be any older than eight.

The gentle tapping of Shane's talon-like claws on the scuffed up dresser is hypnotic, entrancing almost. "Dylan, yeah?" A nod is given in response, one far too eager and not nearly confident enough to mask the tremors in the little boy's hands. 

Ryan blinks, the world always shaded in muted red. But even with the discoloration, there's no mistaking the harsh, jarring bite of bruises sunken into the boy's wrists and fading from his face. His shirt is lose, as if hanging from a hanger, bones peeking out like a ghastly familiar face that Shane hoped to never see again. A hollowness sinks into the boy, staking a gross claim on him as if a beast, otherworldly and grotesque. 

"What do you want more than anything, Dylan?" Shane's question isn't a trick when he suddenly speaks up, it's meant to coax out an answer. It works but only partially, tears beginning to well and spill out of the boy's dark eyes. 

"I wa-want," Dylan's eyes draw back away from the two demons, not out of fear though. Instead, his eyes are swelling, his tears bubbling out as he scrambles over to the dresser. He doesn't even appear too fazed by the bony, fur matted calf besides him as he squeezes past Shane and reaches atop the dresser to pull down a picture frame. He even drops the kangaroo plushie he had been so fervently clutching in order to properly cradle the picture. Dylan loses track of his words for a moment, enamored by the image. 

Shane merely hums, bored almost. He's been through so many variations of this before, children beaten and lost in the world. He's far more fascinated by the warmth of the room, the care taken with the marker strokes on the loose leaf paper strewn across the rickety desk. The lines are jagged and sharp, cruel and fast as they're laid out. It's clear the anguish dripping from the room, a soul divided forced to live in a personal hell. The room itself is clean, orderly, but the mess upon the little desk feels like a punch to the gut. It's a silent scream, Shane merely smiles listlessly. 

Ryan's eyes focus in on the picture, peering past the small boy's shoulder. A woman smiles back at him, her hair is thrown haphazardly into a bun, tendrils flitting around a round, blissful gaze upon her face. Unbidden, Ryan reaches out and the leathery flesh of his forearm slips past Dylan with no concern. Dylan's eyes are watery but he holds tight to the picture frame. Anger ignites like coals in the pit of Ryan's stomach as he notices the cracks adorning the glass, clearly not put there but Dylan. A soft clink is heard as Ryan ticks a claw against the glass, something short of a haunting melody. 

A rumble fills Shane's chest, low and almost like a purr as he beckons for Dylan to come to him. In an almost trancelike state, Dylan carefully sets the picture down atop the dresser once more. 

Shane's voice is a rasp, almost strained as he smiles with a near human tenderness down at the small child. Taking a quivering hand in his, he raises a claw and drags it across Dylan's palm, slow and calm, all while watching the tears stop wetting his face. The blood that bubbles out of Dylan's palm is black, black as nights Shane is sure Dylan wishes he could forget, but it quickly heals over with a fiery scar.

"When you feel alone, sweet child, at the stroke of midnight drink just a few drops and she will come to you."

The snap of Shane's fingers is deafening, like a crash of thunder, but it felt so small in the tiny, cramped room. Dragging his thumb along the cheek of the boy, the tears collect in the underside of Shane's claw- he smiles, sweet and tender. In his hand a bottle materializes, pearlescent and blue like the sky just after sunrise. It looks so small in his hand but as he presses it in Dylan's, it takes nearly both the boy's hands to keep a good hold of the bottle. 

"We belong firstly to those who love us most."


End file.
